On the way home, with him in the driver’s seat, he asked if we were going to see each other tomorrow.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I might be busy.”
He asked about the day after that.
“I think this week’s pretty packed.”
He bit his lip and looked the other way as he steered the car around the corner. With his eyes still averted, two almost completely inaudible words escaped his lips. Regardless, I still caught them: “I’m trying.”
I didn’t know it then. but if there was anyone to blame for it not going anywhere it was definitely me. He, after all, was trying. He’d show up at my office even when I wouldn’t respond (or would respond with a good measure of aloofness thrown in) to texts. Asked how I was at the end of the day.
But I ignored it, because the signs were clear and they pointed nowhere. Then, ignoring it was the right thing to do, but I’m sure there have been times when I was dead wrong, and the only thing to do now is figure out when those times were.
This post is (this was originally on tumbr) here because the server refuses to hook-up to google (it was supposed to be on my blogspot). Speaking of hook-ups, I’m done. I’m done with writing people off and just not trying because I saw one thing I didn’t like, read a few signs (which were probably all meant to be taken in context anyway) and decided there and then that something was not worth it. I’m done.
Alice Sarmiento 